her into the bedroom to lay off her wraps the thunderstruck young
woman had more nearly recovered herself. "Why, he's worth
millions," she exclaimed, in a whisper--"BILLIONS! I don't know
how to talk to him--or you, for that matter. Shall I call you 'my
Lady' or 'your Honor,' or--"

"You knew how to talk to him that night of the supper."

"And to think you married him after what hap--I'm going to slap
the very first millionaire _I_ meet--maybe he'll propose to me."
She was suddenly dismayed. "Why, I can't afford to buy YOU a
wedding-gift--you'll expect a diamond sunburst or a set of sea-
otter. I didn't dress for dinner either; I suppose I should have
worn the crown jools."

"You're going to wear an apron and help me scorch the dinner,"
Lorelei laughed.

"You--COOKING, with a billionaire husband!" Adoree gasped. "Am I
dreaming? Why don't you dine aboard his yacht, or--buy the Plaza
and have dinner served in the lobby? You COOKING! Why, you're
going to have automobiles to match your dresses, and chateaux in
France, and servants, and stables of polo-ponies, and a Long
Island estate, and a hunting-lodge, and--and thousands of gowns,
and a maid to put 'em on. She'll do it, too--when you're not
looking." Miss Demorest paused, dazzled by the splendor of her own
imaginings. "YOU! COOKING! Stop fidgeting and let me kiss you.
There!"

As Lorelei explained the reasons for to-night's program, Adoree